Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Argentina and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
DJ Sneak,
Pole,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Wells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Whodini,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Khruangbin,
Radiohead,
Godley & Creme,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Shadows of Knight,
Absolute Body Control,
Symarip,
X-102,
In Retrospect,
Moebius,
Crime,
Crash Course in Science,
Nils Olav,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
The Victims,
Malaria!,
Toni Rubio,
Nas,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits,
Trumans Water,
Babytalk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Toasters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bill Near,
Sister Nancy,
Graham Central Station,
Chris & Cosey,
Swell Maps,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Divine Comedy,
Sparks,
Junior Murvin,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Cybotron,
Quadrant,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
Todd Rundgren,
the Germs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Negative Approach,
Wings,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Christie,
Freddie Wadling,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.